Victorious, At Last
by x-Bademancer-x
Summary: How did Beck and Jade really meet and fall in love? My idea of their life up until how we know them now. Multi-chapter. JadexBeck
1. Prologue

**So I was watching Victorious on my drab old couch, bored out of my mind, and it was the stage fighting episode (also the episode where Robbie is obsessed with Trina because of a stage **_**kiss**_**). One line of Cat's really stuck out to me: "It was a **_**stage kiss**_**, she was **_**acting**_**." And then she kissed Robbie. And just because my mind happens to do this on occasion (okay, all the time…haha), it wandered into thinking about how Jade and Beck met/fell in love/became the Beck and Jade as we know them today. And I thought: what if it was for the same reason Robbie fell in love with Trina—stage kissing! This is the prologue to this fantastically random thought I had that I believe will make an interesting FanFic. Please don't hesitate to give me ideas, you guys know me by now—I usually don't come prepared with a full story, just bits and pieces! R & R, and as always, I love you guys and your support!**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Starts off from Jade's p.o.v. As I've said in the bio on my profile, apparently the 5 asterisks I use to switch character perspective and/or indicate a time lapse don't seem to like me anymore. So because of that, I'm trying to find something else that will work that wouldn't be too confusing. Bars don't seem to work either. Any and all suggestions would be appreciated haha.**

_Prologue_

So it was a Monday.

The first Monday that I actually listened to my mom and her halfhearted suggestions for me to do something she approved of.

It was the start of auditions for a school play. A drama, of course. I don't didn't do humor or high-strung forbidden romance chiz. A drama, the perfect setting for me; dark, dreary atmosphere most of the time with just barely a glimmer of joy and humor and, if even relevantly possible, hope. This should be a piece of cake, right?

A piece of cake up until, of course, who I was supposed to read with was announced.

But I'm getting a little but ahead of myself. Not that I care, I already know what happens. But you don't. So I guess I'm just gonna have to re-tell it.

Like I've already said, it was a Monday. The beginning of the week. The beginning of going back to that boring piece of seclusion and confinement for 6 hours of my life every day after 2 blissful days of doing whatever the heck I want. Great. My mom hadn't made breakfast, as usual, so I grabbed a slightly rotting apple from the dusty bowl on the table, threw my bag over my shoulder, and ventured out into the world after a quick, tart goodbye tossed towards the general direction of wherever my mom should be.

I shoved myself into my car and drove to school, the idea of trying out for the school play bouncing around in my head like a loose bolt. Everything was so precisely kept together in my mind. It had to be. But that one little idea that seemed so vaguely out of the ordinary just wouldn't get in its respective place, behind the wall built in my mind clearly labeled "Things I Honestly Couldn't Care Less About". Sighing, I took a quick, careless glance at my appearance and dragged myself out of my car and into the barrier some called 'Hollywood Arts'. I called it prison.

Assertively nudging and pushing my way through the crowd of ignorant and sickeningly perky sea of students, I passed one face that caught my attention. For what reason, I hadn't a clue, and I didn't really care. But it still got to me.

He met my gaze as I strode by, and kept it. He had long black hair, a nice face, brown eyes and tan skin. A guy near him who I assumed was his friend called him 'Beck'. Mentally shaking myself from my uncharacteristic interest, I tore my eyes away from his unexplainably entrancing eyes and continued my way to my locker.

Opening it wide—and nearly hitting a kid in the head with the door, much to my satisfaction—I looked myself over routinely in the mirror and dug through the abyss of books and small instruments for whatever it was I was looking for. I didn't really think about what I did anymore; I subconsciously knew what classes I had next, and my hands searched for them zombie-like. But when I turned my head back in the general direction of the mirror attached to the inside of my drably painted door, I saw in the background that Beck guy was staring at me.

His eyes seemed to go wide for a second as he realized he was caught red-handed, and I huffed angrily and whipped around. With long strides, I made my way towards him, practically stomping. I felt everyone's eyes on me, much to my pleasure, as I was prepared to ruin yet another rep today. I stopped dead in front of him, and his guy friends' eyes pretty much bugged out of their skulls as they watched the intensity being created between me and Beck with frightened expressions.

"What is your problem, dude?" I said, screeching irritatedly.

Outwardly unfazed, he replied, confused and with an awkward laugh, "W-what do you mean?"

"Why were you staring at me? Don't try to deny it; I saw you in the mirror." I tapped my foot and crossed my arms, awaiting his clever response.

"I'm…sorry?" he said, stretching a hand back to scratch the back of his head gently. He appeared to be blushing, but only the tiniest hint of it showed.

Now was the usual time for the crash, the horrifying revenge and fear that I just loved to see people squirm in once I inflicted it upon them. But for some reason, I just couldn't do it. Not to this one, insignificant boy. Looking into his sincere, playful, kind eyes, I lost all torment I had planned for him, and uncharacteristically, generously reprieved.

"Okay, well…just…just don't do it again, okay? Or you're gonna pay. Got it?" I asked coldly, though it didn't come out as strictly as I'd intended.

"Got it," he responded casually, smiling and backing away with his hands held up in pretend defense. He turned his back and strode away, seeming to laugh, and his little guy 'posse' followed a while after.

I pouted slightly in his direction, and felt every eye in the room on me as I recovered myself and stomped away, even angrier than I was earlier.

The day dragged on boringly, except for Sikowitz's class, which was always an interesting experience. Beck seemed to be in a lot of my classes, and I noticed him now more than I ever had before, momentarily remembering him as the 'guy I let go'. Why had I? He deserved what he had coming to him. I looked back at him frequently whenever I spotted him, but he seemed to make sure to keep his promise and kept his eyes off me. I think he must have sensed my eyes on him, though, because whenever I looked at him for too long, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Before I knew it, it was time for auditions. I'd already looked at the script enough times during class breaks and slight curiosity at home to get the lines right (or at least, mostly—I was just trying out, not sincerely trying for the lead). I got a general feel of the character's feelings and emotions where they were addressed or needed. Sighing as I looked them over a few more times, waiting for the reading pairings to be called, I glanced up every now and then, feeling gazes boring into the back of my head and bits and pieces of hushed conversations with words like "Jade" "auditioning" and "so weird".

Satisfied enough with my familiarity of the script, I put my hands down, one hand still clutching the book, and rested boredly against the lockers. My eyes glazed over the entire room, and stopped short when they laid themselves upon a familiar head of black hair and tanned skin.

For the oddest reason, I started having a mini panic attack. Beck was here trying out? My stomach knotted in a strange emotion I couldn't describe completely as anger, but something else. Before I even had time to back out of this crazy idea or pray that I get someone, _anyone_, even creepy Sinjin over there, but him, the first pairing was called.

You can guess what happens now, right? It's kind of obvious.

"Beck Oliver and…" the man called, his brows furrowing, as I crossed my fingers behind my back, "…Jade West?"

**Please read and press that pretty little review button! I really want to continue this; the idea is practically exploding in my head. But it's up to you if I should continue. Any ideas or suggestions are welcomed with open arms and a big smile, haha.**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow, thanks guys! 7 reviews already? All positive and willing me to continue? I'm so happy! =) I'm super excited to do this FanFic, but like I said before, I'm running low on ideas! Please give me some if you have any! Haha, even little blurbs or even sentences would at least give me **_**something**_**. ;) As always, enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Starts off from Jade's p.o.v. I've thought about what I can use to indicate time lapse and/or change in character perspective, and I'm thinking just 3 periods will work. They can't delete all the periods from my story, can they? Haha ;)**

_Chapter 1_**  
**

Previously on VAL:

Before I even had time to back out of this crazy idea or pray that I get someone, _anyone_, even creepy Sinjin over there, but him, the first pairing was called.

You can guess what happens now, right? It's kind of obvious.

"Beck Oliver and…" the man called, his brows furrowing, as I crossed my fingers behind my back, "…Jade West?"

. . .

My face dropped in horror and Beck's little guy posse let out a giant "OOOH!" mixed with laughter, like they pretended to feel bad for him. If I was in Beck's position, I'd punch their guts out. But Beck just rolled his eyes, waved them off, and strode calmly by me. I didn't know if I was imagining it or not, but I could've sworn he threw a quick wink as he passed by. Recovering my real self, I stormed angrily towards the direction of the room, passing him, a growl low and rumbling building in my chest as I practically kicked the door down. It was useless to try and talk the teachers into selecting a different reading partner for me; one, it was extremely whiney and demeaning, and two, they wouldn't listen anyway. They've gotten plenty of that in the past, I was sure.

Even though this was a drama and I said I didn't do any of that forbidden romance stuff, unfortunately, the leads _did_ have a romantic scene. And of course, that was what they wanted us to read. With a kiss and everything. Just my luck.

Taking a few deep breaths, I pressed my fingers to my forehead in concentration and fierce determination, trying to will myself to be reasonable again. I had nothing to fear in this Beck guy. _Stop being so irritatingly foolish and just_ _do the stupid scene_, I thought sharply. I took one last steadying inhale and exhale, and turned to face my smirking partner.

Giving him a cold flash of a smile that was gone in a second, I climbed the two short steps up to the miniature stage and held the book reassuringly, just in case I needed it.

"Alright," said the director, practically singing with excitement at the first pair to do the scene, "You're both meeting secretly under a bridge next to a river. Beck, you're a poor young man who works at his recently deceased parent's bakery. Jade, you're a rich young lady who's engaged in an arranged marriage. You've run away to the town where you spot Beck and have fallen in love with him."

"Yeah, and?" I asked, annoyed at him giving me overly-advertised details of things everyone in this room already knew.

"That…that's it." His excitement drained from his face as he realized how uncooperative I intended to be. I sighed huffily, looked at the script one last time as I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and looked back up at Beck.

I was so thoroughly prepared to be a pain in the butt until I looked up into his honest face, and he gave me an encouraging smile and head nod. I could tell he really wanted this, and I knew I'd have to do a somewhat decent job just to make him look good. God, what was wrong with me today? I didn't _do _favors, especially for people I barely know that stare at me and get on my nerves.

"And…" the director said, drawing out the word, "_go_."

Beck's line was up first. "'Jenny'," he began, "'this is wrong. We can't continue to be like this. And you and I both know it.'" He reached a hand up and gently stroked my cheek.

Shivers tingled up and down my spine. "But," I tried weakly, losing some of my control. Gaining some back, I started up again, "'But Aaron, I love you. I can't go back to that awful place, where everything's decided for me, even who I can and can't love. But this time I'm deciding for myself"—I turn my back for a moment, for dramatic effect, and then turn back, looking up dreamily into his eyes—"and I choose you.'"

Just as the script says, Beck—or technically, 'Aaron'—pulls me in for a gentle embrace. "'I love you too, Jenny. But if we're caught, I could lose everything my parents built for me. And so could you. It's too dangerous.'" He ends his sentence somewhat angrily, and pulls out of the hug, just like the script implies.

I grab his wrist, gently tugging him around to face me again. "'I'm willing to take the risk, for us. Are you, Aaron? If not, just tell me, and I'll leave right now.'" Beck paints a confused and torn expression on his features as his character Aaron gives this some thought, and I turn and start to walk away, my character's heart slowly breaking.

Then Beck whips me around and, before I could reflect upon what had just happened, his lips were on mine, kissing me passionately. I returned it with just as much desire, momentarily forgetting I was in the middle of a scene. My subconscious slowly making a mental note of how much I enjoyed it, my apparently sleeping mind was startled awake by that thought. No, I couldn't be enjoying it! I'm not the kind of person to fall in love! _Break away right now, Jade!_, my thoughts screamed at me, and I broke the kiss, nearly panting.

But just as I was starting to return back to my regular, distanced self, I opened my closed eyes and they were met with Beck's burning brown ones, and I forgot my next line.

"Uh…um…" I unintentionally muttered. I realized I still had the script in my hand; I brought it quickly up to my face, burying my nose in it, embarrassed, and frantically flipped through the pages for my next line. "S-sorry, if you'll just let me—"

"Actually, that's fine. Great job, you guys," the director said appreciatively, and the rest of the teachers in the room clapped gingerly. Beck smiled and I saw a hue of pinkish-red poking out dimly from behind his cheeks. Before I could completely lose all control, I nodded briskly to Beck, looked him over once, and stormed furiously out of the room, muttering profanities and punishments at myself. I felt every eye in the room boring into my skull as I joined them all again in the lobby, and I refused to make eye contact with any of them. I kicked open the Ladies Room door and hid in there until the class bell rang.

After the last 2 agonizing classes of the day were over, both with Beck in them—and I made sure not to look at him _at all_ during either—everyone routinely dispersed into the lobby, packing up their lockers and bags to go home. I walked right by Beck and his group of immature friends, ignoring them and their unbearably booming laughter to every extent. I opened my locker and began preparing to go back to my horrible home.

. . .

"So, buddy, how'd auditions go with Jade, the Wicked Witch of the West?" Andre asked, chuckling, high-fiving, and fist-pumping all my other friends.

Dropping my head to rest against the lockers, I exhaled long and hard, trying to analyze it just right to describe it to them. But they took that as a completely different sign and all whooped and hollered, laughing at the pain they thought I was experiencing.

"That bad, huh?" my friend Robbie's…well, let's call his friend…Rex, asked. The rest of the guys were listening intently for my response.

"No, not really. It wasn't that bad. She's a good actress." I shrugged nonchalantly against the metal doors of the lockers.

They seemed to lose it then, thinking I was telling a joke. "What?" Robbie shrieked in between laughs. My brows furrowed for a second and then I rolled my eyes, realizing it was hopeless to try to convince them that I was telling the truth. And that was the exact moment she walked by, anger in her wake.

"There goes the Ice Queen," one of my friends said.

"Nobody get near her, she's mad!" another responded.

"I'm not getting involved with that drama!" someone else stated, then chuckled.

"Oh yeah?" I asked where in the general direction of where that statement came from. "Well, maybe I will," I responded daringly. I raised myself up from leaning on the lockers and with long strides, approached Jade at her locker.

. . .

I could hear all the mindless chattering and blabbing emanating from every student's mouth, but I heard Beck's guy group the most, considering they were the loudest and there were more of them than most others in this room. They laughed obnoxiously nearly every 5 seconds, and it was slowly driving me insane. It was when the finally quieted and hushed each other that my senses started becoming more alert, sensing something was happening to one of them.

That was when Beck Oliver appeared in front of my locker for the first time, leaning casually against a neighboring locker with a kindhearted smile on his lips and seemingly good intentions on his face.

Though I did my best to ignore him, I knew he was still there and was waiting for me to do something. "What do you want?" I asked without expression.

"We haven't formally met yet. I'm Beck Oliver." He stuck out a sturdy, warm hand in my direction. I stopped transferring items from my bag to my locker and vice versa to stare at it for a second, then continued with my merry business. He still wasn't going anywhere.

. . .

"That's nice," she replied when I did my best at courtesy, ignoring my hand. Realizing she wasn't intending to take it, I raised it up and awkwardly scratched the back of my head, exhaling inaudibly. This was going to be tough work.

She stopped what she was doing and turned to fully face me. "You know who I am. Now _what do you want_?" she asked, teeth clenching towards the end of her question.

"Um…" I tried to think of what to say. "What's your favorite endangered species?"

"The leopard. Why do you care?" She had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot by now, and I knew her enough by now to know that that couldn't be a good thing.

"Because I want to get to know you better. You're a good actress. And you're very…interesting," I stated, smiling sheepishly.

"Interesting, am I?" She seemed slightly amused. A hard smile was plastered on her lips, her arms still crossed and her foot still tapping. "Well, not interesting enough for you to know," she dismissed and started walking away.

I ran in front of her and stopped her, and she looked up, annoyed now. "Well, why not?" I felt obligated to ask.

Her blue eyes were blazing with fire. "Because I don't hang out with people like you," she sneered, but I saw more to it behind her guarded eyes. She started to walk away again and I cut her off once more.

"Oh yeah? And what kind of person would that be, exactly?" I shoved my hands in my pockets, my face and eyes dancing with amusement.

"Just let me go home, Beck," she practically growled, shoving me out of the way. And then I had a slightly delayed realization.

That was the first time she'd said my name.

As I watched her walk away, confident and powerful, I was determined not to let her get away from me that easily.

Beck Oliver wasn't giving up on Jade West just yet.


	3. Chapter 2

**Okay, this is the last chapter I can give you for now; school's starting up again and I'm not going to have as much time to write as I've had. I'll definitely try my best, but I'm not going to have a chapter up on a routinely schedule. It'll just be up whenever I get the chance to write. As always, enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Starts off from Beck's p.o.v. for a change, haha. I apologize for the shortness!**

_Chapter 2_

Previously on VAL:

As I watched her walk away, confident and powerful, I was determined not to let her get away from me that easily.

Beck Oliver wasn't giving up on Jade West just yet.

. . .

I waited.

I waited and waited forever for her, eluding my usual guy group for once so I could get to her immediately when she walked through the door.

But she wasn't coming in. Everyone filed in through the large doors at their own time, their own pace. Not one glimpse of brunette, streaked hair and black boots. I was starting to worry that she wouldn't come to school today at all, but what reason did she have not to?

Oh, right. Me. But that still gave her no right to ditch her responsibilities just to avoid me.

When it seemed like all trying was in vain and I was about to give up, the students coming in suddenly moved quickly out of the way of something, as if clearing a path subconsciously. And there she came, strutting through the doors like an all-powerful lioness, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to cross her.

And I was just that daring.

Catching her eye, hers widened in first shock and then annoyance, and she picked up speed. Running to catch up with her, meeting her at her locker, I leaned against it for the second time this week.

. . .

I walked through the doors, proud and in charge, holding back a grin as the sea of kids parted for my arrival. I looked to my left and right, reveling in their fear. And then I caught Beck's eye, and I knew something was up.

He was waiting for me.

Irritated with his foolish devotion and attempts, I walked a little faster, just to get away from him. It was unfortunate that the lobby was so small, and his locker was only a few steps distance away from mine, if he so desired to come to it. And, apparently, he did.

His charming smile painted itself at the corners of his mouth and his eyes danced warmly. I knew he intended no harm in his weirdly caring actions, but they were really starting to get on my nerves.

Giving up on ignoring him since it never seemed to work, I huffed and turned fully to face him. "Look, whatever you're trying to do, I'm not interested. Just leave me alone, ok?" I stated coldly. I shifted the bag on my shoulder, slammed my locker shut, and started walking away.

Then, unexpectedly, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. I whipped around, confusion, anger, and if anything, evident annoyance building up hysterically, burning in my jewel blue eyes.

"Let _go of me_!" I shrieked, ripping my arm away. But instead of continuing to depart, I turned around to face him again. "What do you _want_? Money? What!" I was panting now, the anger bubbling up like a volcano inside me.

His face was plastered in slightly hurt innocence. "Nothing…I just want to get to know you." He smiled sheepishly, and miraculously, my fury suddenly vanished.

What did he just do to me?

My heart was beating erratically, and my stomach was flopping in an emotion I couldn't describe. I wasn't angry anymore; I was just confused and irritated.

I kept sputtering out huffy bits of words, but nothing came completely to my tongue. I didn't know how to respond to that.

"Wh…what?" I replied, confused and feeling unexplainably ignorant.

He made silly hand movements as he clarified. "I want to," he said, pointing to himself and then putting up two fingers, "get to"—he put up two fingers again—"know"—he pointed to his head—"you," he concluded, pointing to my heart.

I was honestly speechless. Nobody had ever had even the slightest bit of interest in me before, me _personally_, not even my own mother half the time. For someone to genuinely want to be my acquaintance was quite an offer. But even so, I didn't want to trust him completely.

I could feel myself letting my guard down, but I couldn't find a way to put it back up. "Um…s-sure. I…I guess. But…why?" I crossed my arms, practically hugging myself. I felt uncomfortable now, and slightly hopeful.

"Why don't you come to my place tonight? I'll make dinner and everything. You'll get everything you want to know there." He winked and started backing away. "See you later, Jade," he said right before he left completely.

And for the first time in my life, that's when I, Jade West, began to hope.


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, sorry it's been so long and the last chapter was such a short cliffhanger! I've been home sick for the past 2 days and should have been writing, but I was just too tired and dizzy to get out of my ever-so-welcoming bed. **

**Anyway, here's Chapter 3. Are you excited? Haha. Enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Back to starting from Jade's p.o.v. first. She's just easiest to write, haha.**

_Chapter 3_

Previously on VAL:

"Why don't you come to my place tonight? I'll make dinner and everything. You'll get everything you want to know there." He winked and started backing away. "See you later, Jade," he said right before he left completely.

And for the first time in my life, that's when I, Jade West, began to hope.

**. . .**

Finding the place wasn't too hard, I guess. At least, not for me.

For my truck, on the other hand, it was a nightmare.

As usual, the stupid weatherman predicted tonight's forecast wrong, _again_. When he said it was supposed to be a cloudless, starry, moonlit night, I actually thought to believe him. For some unexplainable reason, my mom trusted him completely. And since I was feeling uncharacteristically cheerful when I got home from school, I hung on to that sliver of hope that had been following me around like a lost puppy all day when he stated it, seeming just _so _sure and cockily proud of himself.

Instead, here I sat, in a broken down truck, in the middle of the road, while thunder, lightning, and buckets of rain beat down around me, shaming my decision to trust hope for once.

Okay, karma person, you win. But can my car come back to life now? Please?

Looking at the dashboard, my eyes angrily scanned across the vigorously flashing gas light, the fuzzy, static-y radio, and the clock, the only things seeming to work in this hand-me-down clunker. I honestly didn't know what to do.

As far as I could see, I had two options; option one was to sit here until the storm cleared away and I could walk to the nearest payphone, completely ditching Beck and his hospitality that I was oddly accepting. Option two was to walk through the rain myself, and show up on his doorstep soaking wet and mad.

Decisions, decisions.

Staring out into the gloomy, destructive night, my crystal blue eyes caught sight of my glimmer of hope in a sea of darkness. And though I didn't believe in this kind of stuff, tonight I felt as though I might as well ride the weird wave I'm on while it lasts.

I saw a bright, shining star, fighting its way to stay present in the sky through the deathly clouds and rain. And I took it as a sign. A sign that something like this may never happen again, and I should take it while it's here. That if I don't, the star will die out. And for some reason, I just couldn't let that happen.

Gritting my teeth and hugging my momentarily dry sweatshirt impossibly closer to my chilled skin, I took a deep breath and charged out into the storm.

Once the icy rain pelted my sweatshirt to the point of it weighing ten times more than it was originally, I muttered some quick profanities under my breath, through my chattering teeth, but pushed through. Thanking my lucky star, I realized how little distance I had left to travel, and that immediately got my legs working faster through the puddles seeping its wetness through my shoes and socks.

About twenty minutes later, I caught sight of Beck's house, and pounded furiously on the door, half expecting it to crumble into sawdust under the rapid blows. A woman, who I presumed must have been Beck's mother, opened the door and her eyes widened for about a millisecond before returning to their normal, brown, warm selves. Just like Beck's.

And then I realized how hideous I must have looked, and how the situation must have looked to her. A gothic looking teenager with dripping wet, stringy hair and soaked clothes, clutching herself awkwardly, with running, dark makeup framing wild blue eyes.

"Um, hi," I said somewhat tentatively, "Is B-Beck, h-home?" I unfortunately couldn't stop the chattering teeth as I asked.

Her expression had switched from an openly curious one to a slightly amused one, laughter dancing in her gentle eyes and soft features. Tilting her head in one direction as she spoke, she said with a little chuckle, "In there." I heard the door close behind me as I turned around slowly and took in the sight before me for the first time, subconsciously noting that the rain had lightened a bit. Thunder still roared faintly in the distance.

The woman's house was a classic, white house with a small porch and a couple plastic chairs set on top of it. The house itself was on top of a small hill, and to the left of the house, it dipped into a deep bed of concrete, where garage doors lay hidden towards the bottom of the house. On the large concrete patch, however, sat a large, round, red RV with various lights stringed around it.

I walked down the thin stone walkway on the hill down to the RV, slowly, curiosity filling my senses. The windows were tinted a dark, shadow gray, and I realized with weak recollection that they must be bulletproof for some reason. My dad, when he was around, used to work in an auto-body shop and would always share a bunch of information with me about vehicles and their parts.

Circling the thing around once, I stopped dead in front of the door, a strange feeling suddenly enveloping me, chilling my core. I felt lightheaded, unprepared, and defenseless, two of three things I've never liked or experienced before. It made me feel…not scared, but…vulnerable?

Raising a fist that somehow seemed so fragile when it had been used plenty of other times for completely un-fragile reasons, I knocked lightly on the faded scarlet door and shifted on my heels as I waited. I whistled quietly for a little while, for some reason. As the minutes ticked by, annoyance quickly armored over whatever nervousness I may have been feeling, and I was no longer rocking back and forth on my heels like an eager child, but tapping my foot like an irritated girl. Which I was.

Fed up with waiting in the cold for something that seemed so foolish to have agreed to anyway by now, I was just about to turn on my heel and walk all the way back to my car, when the creak of an opening door signaled that Beck had made his appearance to my own.

Though it sounded like he meant for it to be a silent sound just for him, I heard him sigh quietly in contentment. Unwillingly, I cracked a tiny smile and felt warmth rush to my cheeks.

"Jade," he sighed, evident pleasure in his easy tone. Composing myself, I swiftly turned back around and stared him straight in the eyes, lips pouted slightly to show what was left of my annoyance at him.

But as he took in the full sight of me, he must have interpreted that as something else. And then I remembered what I looked like again, how his mother reaction for a split second. His eyes widened in shock and concern as he quickly exited his RV and was striding towards me.

"Jade? Are you alright? What happened? What's wrong?" His gentle, broad hands gripped the tops of my shoulders like iron vises, then rubbed quickly up and down, trying to transfer body heat.

Batting his hands away, I replied, "Nothing, nothing, I'm fine." My jewel blue eyes dropped their gaze to the ground for a minute, but feeling his steady gaze boring into me, I looked back up to see he wasn't impressed. Arms crossed and leaning against the side of his vehicle, he raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

Huffing, I threw up my hands and let them flop back down as I explained, monotone. "My car ran out of gas on the way here, and I had to walk the rest of the way here in the pouring rain. Okay?"

The corner of his lip slipped up into a slanted grin. "You know, you could have just gone and gotten help. I could've waited until tomorrow," he replied playfully.

_No, you would've thought I'd blown you off, just like my lucky star told me you would_, I thought to myself, and realized the absurdity of how I made my decisions then. Wow, was I really that delusional today?

Giving me one last look-over, he hopped backwards onto his front step and, gesturing broadly with his hand, instructed, "Enter."

Losing most of my hard-to-break attitude under his harmless, kind eyes, I smirked and stomped up into his RV.

It was relatively small on the inside, but just big enough for him, I suppose. Dozens of interesting little trinkets lined the walls, shelves, and desks, but I didn't pay too much attention to that. All my senses were focused on the peculiar smell emanating from Beck's little stove.

"Oh, shoot," he muttered, scooting by me, and opening the stove, releasing a pillar of smoke. Unable to help it, we both coughed for a while until the fumes eventually died down enough for us to breathe normally, and then he laughed.

"I hope you like burned chicken," he said, still laughing and half coughing, as he pulled it out of the oven. And set it on the table opposite his bed.

"Oh, my fave," I replied sarcastically. But one glance from him and I lost all control I had.

I laughed.

Standing up straight, both of us admired the sound for as long as it lasted. When I was finished and I realized what I'd just done, he smiled, open-mouthed in shock and pleasure.

"Well, well, well; the black Jade bird does sing, after all."


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone =) I love you so much! Your reviews are making my heart swell, with how much you like it =} ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!**

**Here's Chapter 4. Enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**. . .**

_Chapter 4_

Previously on VAL:

"I hope you like burned chicken," he said, still laughing and half coughing, as he pulled it out of the oven. And set it on the table opposite his bed.

"Oh, my fave," I replied sarcastically. But one glance from him and I lost all control I had.

I laughed.

Standing up straight, both of us admired the sound for as long as it lasted. When I was finished and I realized what I'd just done, he smiled, open-mouthed in shock and pleasure.

"Well, well, well; the black Jade bird does sing, after all."

. . .

My good mood dropped just like that, shattering into pieces on the ground. For some reason I couldn't explain, I felt like I was approaching hysterics.

Unable to stop myself from panting, my chest rising and falling dramatically, I uttered out breathily, "I…I have to go." I stood up briskly and hurried over to the door.

Just as he'd done earlier, when he hypnotized me into meeting him here—and, as I was regretting coming, now—Beck grabbed my wrist, preventing me from going any further. But instead of freaking out about someone touching me without my granted permission, I just turned around slowly, staring down at it.

I felt his eyes boring down onto mine, but I refused to lift them. I was biting back tears as it was; one sympathetic look from him and I knew I'd break completely.

The panting and hysteria had stopped, which was good. But an ache was building in my chest, a feeling that I hated. It reminded me of a time, long ago, with my father…

Biting my bottom lip, I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, then lifted my eyes to meet his understanding brown ones. I still felt like I could crack at any moment, but right now, I was safe. The urge to cry was slowly backing down, _very _slowly, but at least I knew I'd be able to stop it now if it so desired to rush back and spill over. My breath was shaky as we stood there, just looking into each other's eyes, in silent communication, searching for answers to questions better left unasked.

Then, unexpectedly, Beck tugged my wrist and pulled my into a protective embrace. I melted into his being, feeling safe and understood. I'd never really had a real friend in my life; I never liked to let anyone in, so I shut everyone out and brought them down so they wouldn't dare to try and get inside. A few days ago, Beck was just another face in the crowd, who hadn't provoked me just yet. Well, until he did, anyway. But you know what I mean.

Beck's body felt warm, gentle, and firm against mine. I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of him. The slight smell of musk he gave off, mixed with a softer, sweeter smell I couldn't place. In that moment, I realized how perfectly we fit together, as if the build of him was made just for me to hold. He rested his cheek gently against my hair, and I heard him inhale and exhale deeply, sighing pleasantly. I smiled against his chest.

Unwillingly, I pulled out of the hug, not feeling quite so awkward and tense anymore. It was as if he and I had come to an unspoken understanding, a new bond. Someone we could both rely on without being judged or not taken seriously. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back. And I meant it this time.

Then suddenly I shivered, and realized how cold and damp I was; even the clothes under my sweatshirt were wet. My pants were drying, having received the least amount of rain from the protection of my heavy, billowing sweatshirt, but my boots with soaked and muddy to the core.

That immediately snapped Beck back to reality as well. "Well, if you're going to be staying after all," he said with a wink, "You need new clothes. You're going to catch a cold if you stay in that for too much longer." He turned and walked toward what I assumed was his dresser, and started digging through drawer after drawer until he found something and flung it at me.

Beck turned around again, and nodding his head at the shirt in my hands, said "There, change into that. I can wait," he said, smiling, the childlike playfulness back in his brown eyes. "Besides, I've got to find a way to make this chicken somewhat edible, anyway."

I chuckled again, only slightly, and went into his bathroom to change. I scrubbed my face free of the zebra stripes my running makeup left on my face, leaving almost nothing but the faded remnants of my dark eyeshadow and little mascara left. By the time I came out, I was in a plain brown t-shirt and my now-dry black jeans, barefoot. Beck was at the small table opposite his bed, scraping the black off the chicken.

When he heard my entrance, he immediately turned around, and I could've sworn I heard him sigh something quietly along the lines of "beautiful". I bit back a smile so I wouldn't blush like a stupid, preppy, flirty schoolgirl.

"Well that looks…delicious," I said half disgustedly as I eyed the chicken over again. Somehow, it turned out looking worse after the scraping job Beck did on it. In some places it looked like he scrubbed a bit _too _hard, for the bones were practically sticking out like loose nails on a floorboard, and other places were indescribably gruesome to look at.

A flash of slight offense pranced across his features for a split second, even though he knew I was joking.

Taking a deep breath, I smirked and said, "Let's eat!"

He laughed his easy, comforting laughter and gestured for me to sit opposite him. The RV being an RV, the table was small, causing our knees to brush unintentionally. For some reason, that caused my heart to flutter.

As we picked out the parts that looked somewhat edible from his deformed, burnt chicken, we ate in silence for a long time, just listening to the simple silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze flicker back up to me multiple times, but I kept myself composed and seemingly oblivious, refusing to give myself away.

Finally, the question that was burning in my mind bubbled up to my lips and unlocked them, letting itself out.

"Why?" I asked quietly, my voice fragile.

"Hmm?" he asked, chewing a bite of chicken, his brows pulling together in confusion.

"Why did you do it? Why did you even care?" I kept my eyes down, locked on the plate, not really eating anymore as I nervously pushed a piece of food around.

I felt the easy atmosphere we created suddenly darken and intensify. The change was so tangible I could almost taste it more than the chicken.

I felt his brown eyes burning with intensity, tracking my face, as he answered. "The same reason I told you before. You interested me."

"How?" For some reason, I was only capable of one word responses right now. That feeling of uncomfortable vulnerability was back, and it practically incapacitated my tongue and vocal chords.

He spoke again, and I could practically feel the words coming from his heart. "I'd seen you thousands of times ever since we came to Hollywood Arts. I knew how people feared you and never dared to bother you. How explosive you could be if someone did, whether intentional or not. But I never really noticed you enough to reflect upon it further, and you certainly never had the slightest interest in my existence. I knew that, of course; pretty much everyone did. But that day of the auditions, you just seemed to stand out more than you had to me."

I listened intently, reveling in every word. Hearing someone say this felt good, for some reason I couldn't place. My blue eyes still avoided his serious brown ones, though I came narrowly close to looking up multiple times. I lifted my fork and chewed on a piece of chicken slowly.

"That's when it fully hit me what intrigued me. I was trying to figure you out; why you dressed the way you did, why you were so cold to everyone who even tried to socialize or interact with you. I knew you hated the world, but the only question that I couldn't completely solve, the question that branched out into all those other little ones, was simply 'why?'. Why would someone be so possessed to hate everything?" Beck continued.

"That's when you caught me staring at you. And the first interaction we ever had, I knew who you were and what you could do to me. And yet you retreated at the last second. Why? Then after the audition, I couldn't get you out of my head. I knew I had to do something. I wanted to get to know you, just like I told you. I still do." He smiled and, almost without thinking, he grabbed my hand under the table. The sudden heat of his hand enveloping mine in a steady caress sent a flush of warmth through my body, the strongest where we were now connected. My eyes, unable to resist any longer, flashed up to meet his own. They were boring into mine, as if looking into the very depths of me. I melted under their protective, passionate burn.

And that's when I realized how fast everything was going.

I wasn't saying I wasn't grateful for his company, his friendship, his trust; the bond between us that was already being rooted so deeply. I was more thankful and thrilled for that more than anything. And even though I knew Beck just spilled everything from his heart through his lips, into my very active mind, I felt flushed and overwhelmed suddenly under the intensity of his gaze. I really needed to be alone right now, but I had no idea how to do that without hurting his feelings.

I stood up abruptly, ripping my hand away from his, and pressing the fingers of that same hand spread against my forehead in deep thought. If I leave and go home for some time to think, I'll hurt him. If I isolate myself from him in this small RV, that'll offend him. If I take off running to my broken down truck for some solitude, that'll offend him. If I ask him to call a taxi for me to go home, that will probably offend him, as well.

I was pacing back and forth vigorously now, my brows pulled together almost painfully with thought. I need to think of an excuse. I forgot to feed my dog? No, he could probably tell my dislike for slobbery animals already. I have a strict curfew and my mother gets angry if I break it? It's a stretch, but it could work.

Realizing I didn't have a watch on, I looked for the nearest clock, a pool table clock, just one of his many nifty, classic items.

Gathering up the best of my acting skills, I looked at the clock and blurted, "Oh God, is that the time?" I subconsciously hoped that line was too cheesy, making it seem obvious I was faking. Looking around for my things, which mostly consisted of a sweatshirt and boots in disgusting condition, I picked them up one by one as I muttered little nothings to myself, just part of the act.

Beck was still in his seat at the table, in the same position I left him in; one hand stretched slightly under the table, him leaning a little towards where I was just a moment ago. "Yeah…9:00. Why? What's the problem?" I could see specks of hurt planting themselves in various spots on his features, attacking his beautiful eyes first, and I tried my best to stop the choking feeling and ache building in my chest that was slowly closing off my throat. But I continued with my façade anyway, even though I knew he could see right through it.

"I completely forgot, my mom has a strict curfew. I've got to be home by at least 9:15, or I'm in huge trouble. I've got to go now if I have any chance of getting home just in time." I gathered the last of my things, and turned to face him, his face now hard and humorless, but he couldn't erase his natural instinct to be a gentleman.

"Well, we wouldn't want to make your mom upset, now, would we?" he said, his voice monotone and edging on slightly angry. I flinched internally, knowing I'd regret this later, but also knowing that if I didn't have some alone time I'd crack and break and fall apart.

"I'm sorry, Beck," I whispered, my façade done. I really meant it this time. And even though I knew he knew it was, he still looked extremely wounded.

I crossed over for a consoling hug, but he set up an invisible divider by holding his phone out in front of us, muttering, "I'll call you a taxi."

"Thanks," I whispered, barely audible, my voice sad.

When we heard the taxi honk its horn outside after around 10 minutes of awkward, tense silence, he walked me out to it like he knew he should, but I knew he didn't really want to. God, I really hated his unbearable kindness right now. He should be giving me the cold shoulder or waving me off dismissively, not escorting me to my vehicle.

As I got inside, I bit my lip, saving my tears for later. I would _not _cry in front of him, no matter what, no matter when.

As the taxi started to drive away, I twisted and turned in my seat, determined not to let him out of my sight until it was impossible to see him anymore.

The taxi driver just asked gruffly but sympathetically, "Just go through a breakup, sweetheart?"

Looking down at my bare feet, I muttered glumly, "Not exactly."

When I got home, I realized I still had Beck's shirt on. Ignoring my routine responsibilities such as brushing my hair and teeth, I climbed into bed, curling up into a ball under the sheets and hugging the shirt closer, smelling in the familiar scent of him. My sheets were cold and unwelcoming. I was slowly turning into a mess, and I didn't try to stop myself from letting it all out this time.

Just as I felt my control slipping away, I looked out the big window in my room.

My star wasn't there.


	6. Chapter 5

**Sorry if this chapter turns out boring/bad/etc., I didn't really have much of an idea for this. Enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: I don't know why I keep doing this, but I feel it's necessary for some reason haha. Starts from Jade's p.o.v., as usual.**

**. . .**

_Chapter 5_

Previously on VAL:

When I got home, I realized I still had Beck's shirt on. Ignoring my routine responsibilities such as brushing my hair and teeth, I climbed into bed, curling up into a ball under the sheets and hugging the shirt closer, smelling in the familiar scent of him. My sheets were cold and unwelcoming. I was slowly turning into a mess, and I didn't try to stop myself from letting it all out this time.

Just as I felt my control slipping away, I looked out the big window in my room.

My star wasn't there.

**. . .**

I woke up the next morning disoriented and dazed, my face feeling like a soaked up towel, having absorbed every tear in my body.

Memories of last night flooding back into my consciousness, I bit back the next episode I felt creeping up my throat, closing it off as it went. But as I did every day, I pulled myself together and convinced myself that I was stronger than that. That crying was not allowed. That I was the top dog around here, and if any weakness showed, I would lose it all. Beck had already penetrated every layer of my carefully constructed attitude. I had to build it back up.

Doing just that wasn't that hard to do. I got up, brushed my dimly colorful hair, brushed my teeth, put on my layers of makeup. Just followed my routine schedule of being who I had to be. Everything was almost perfectly back to what I had grown to call 'normal'. The last piece to my carefully built puzzle was just missing one little piece, my attire for the day, which was patiently sprawled out on my bed. Taking one last glance at my appearance beforehand, I was completely prepared to face another terrible day until I caught sight of my shirt.

The shirt that wasn't really mine. Beck's shirt. His musky, sweet smell still emanated dully from the fabric, and the full force of last night hit me like a punch in the chest.

It felt so real, so explosively powerful that it momentarily made me lose my breath. I could feel mixed emotions flooding back to me at full force in various entities, from tears to gasps to a sickening feeling brewing in the very bottom of my stomach. Taking a few long, deep breaths, I regained my composure and had a sudden realization. Well, more of a fact, really. A proven statement, if you will.

I definitely wasn't going to school today.

Not that I wanted to anyway, but if anything, I needed to skip school. I just couldn't go back to all those questioning eyes and stupid little annoyances that just loved to rub me the wrong way, whether intentional or not.

_Just like you _needed _to have some isolation from Beck last night and practically killed him on the inside? _whispered that irritating, regretful voice in the back of my head. Another thing that refused to go behind my wall of "Things I Couldn't Care Less About".

I groaned aloud, glad that my house was big enough that nobody would care to hear me anyway. And who would care, in the first place? Certainly not my mom, who spends all her time in bed while dirty dishes, clothes, and God knows what else stacks up in cluttered piles around this place. The ants? No. I barely care about myself anymore. And for some reason, especially now, especially after last night. Seeing Beck break that evidently from the inside broke something inside me too.

And I knew that if I didn't fix one of us soon, I'd go insane.

Knowing my mother would have no use for it at this time in the morning, I took her black Sebring, Beck's shirt clutched securely in my hand. After only being here once, I was surprised I knew the way so well. Maybe the slightly traumatizing event of being trapped in a broken down truck in the middle of a storm just a few miles from my destination and having to walk the rest of the way was part of it.

I pulled into the drive slowly, quietly, not wanting to disturb or alert anyone inside Beck's mother's house. Or him in his RV, either. Parking at the top of the driveway to avoid further mechanical sounds, I started to walk down to the RV, when I noticed an odd vehicle parked near it.

It certainly wasn't a regular car, like a truck or a Sebring. It was an amped-up, painted, beat-up looking black van with the printing "Consuela's Cleaning Service" painted on the side of it. Figuring 'Consuela' was inside, I assumed Beck was already driving to school, or something away from his RV. Realizing how perfect this setup was, I analyzed my situation. Knock on the door, give the shirt to Consuela, she'll probably clean it or something and put it away, and I'll leave with no further issues. I won't have to see Beck's reproachful, disappointed eyes burning into my being with hurt, mad questions; I won't have to see him slam the door right back in my face, muttering something like 'keep the shirt, I don't want it anymore'. Though I subconsciously note that even _I _know he's too much of a gentleman to do that last thing, it's a possibility.

Without further hesitation, I strode up to the bright red door and pounded furiously on it before I had a chance to think twice.

I looked around pointedly, foot tapping with unnecessary anxiety, arms crossed and tense. I heard the door open in front of me, and my head instinctively whipped around, determined to shove the shirt in her arms and get out of here.

Why did I even begin to hope?

When my crystal blue eyes fell upon the figure in the doorway, it was not a woman with cleaning supplies in hand as I'd predicted. Instead stood the exact opposite of what I dared to hope for.

Beck's gentle brown eyes weren't as hard and hurt as last night, but evidently showed his shift in mood when he opened the door to see me standing there, arm extended absentmindedly like an idiot, clutching a balled up, wrinkled shirt of his. He didn't make any angry movements like tapping his foot or crossing his arms. He just shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and propped himself up against the doorframe, waiting for me to do something. Or say something, I wasn't sure. Either way, I was lost with both actions.

Awkwardness eating away at both our patience, I said the first thing that came into my mind. "Why aren't you at school?" I asked. It was innocent enough.

He just shrugged nonchalantly. "It's healthy to skip a day once in a while." The gaze he held on me intensified, and before I could completely succumb to his unspoken plea for me to come back to him, I nearly threw the shirt in his face, immediately flinging my arms back to my sides, my posture tense and robotic.

"Um…oops." He just raised his eyebrows for a second and let them fall back down, peeling the shirt off him and subconsciously folding it over and over.

"So why are you ditching today?" his voice was monotone and he kept his eyes centered on the insignificant shirt he kept fiddling with in his gentle grasp.

I shrugged, even though I knew he wouldn't look up to see it. "I just…needed to, I guess." I tucked my arms into each other, a breeze suddenly chilling me. Or was that the tension that was building up between us finally snapping and exploding in my face?

"Mmhmm." The simple noise that emanated from his throat had so much more coating it than a dismissive response. It was dusted with sarcasm, sprinkled with hurt and anger. Add a pinch of regret and you've got the perfect recipe for reading Beck just right.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" I began, practically flinging myself in front of him, our faces only inches apart. "Everything was going so fast. First we kissed when we had no plans of doing it if we hadn't been reading that stupid script, then you invited me over, then you even went through cooking something—well, burning something, really—just for me, then we had that talk, and it all just—"

He put a single finger on my rapidly explaining lips, silencing me immediately while barely trying. "I'm willing to take the risk, for us. Are you, Jade? If not, just tell me, and I'll leave right now," he quoted from our auditioning bit, twisting the words slightly to match our very real-life scenario. I saw the easy playfulness back in his eyes, and I knew everything was back to the way it was again. Beck couldn't hold back a smile, and because of that, neither could I.

"I…" I drew out, loving still being able to mess with him even if we were actually friends now, "…I think we should try again." I lost myself in those captivating brown orbs of his, and I knew that I couldn't screw up this time. If I did, there was—_officially_—no going back. At all. And I just couldn't deal with that if I ever did.

What was happening to me? Just a few days ago, I wouldn't have even thought twice about ruining everything about him, his rep, what he's known for, _everything_. Leave him to be a living example of why you should never cross Jade West. Now, here I was, practically in his arms and losing myself in his eyes, at his house, about to do God knows what with him, as long as it made everything right and made him happy. So, what _was _happening to me?

Whatever it was, I didn't care. I was reveling in it.

Without thinking about it, Beck intertwined his fingers through mine, and I think he realized his mistake because a flash of fright danced across his features. But when he saw my smiling, almost embarrassingly blushing face at the simple action, I nearly felt the ecstatic smile lock itself back in its rightful place.

When he opened my door for me like a gentleman and helped me in like I was a dainty little girl instead of a headstrong young woman, he got in on my other side and was about to put the key in the ignition when he stopped.

"What's the problem?"

A flood of happily flustered confusion painted him. "What are we even doing, anyway? Seeing a movie?"

I playfully tapped my chin in thought. "Too tacky for my taste."

"Going to lunch?" he questioned thoughtfully.

"Seen it a thousand times before. Embarrassing and sloppy."

"Then what?" His voice had dropped low and sweet, a teasing seductiveness hidden behind the little laugh he added to it.

I looked right into those judgment free, warm, passionate eyes that I had come to find my safe haven.

Taking his hand again without shame, I said simply, "I guess we're going to have to find out."

**Awwww, Jade's all happy and bubblier than her usual aggressive hatred towards everything. Love it? Hate it? Click that pretty little review button and tell me what you think ;)**


	7. Chapter 6

**I'm so happy with this chapter =) It actually made me cry while writing it, that's just how much of a sap I am. Sorry for the long recap, kinda hard/confusing to just start it in the middle of the dialogue. Also sorry for the Twilight-esque-ish (don't you love that word I just made up? Haha) theme of this chapter. Anyway, enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Okay, you know what I'm gonna say. Jade's p.o.v. As always. Alright, proceed.**

**. . .**

Previously on VAL:

A flood of happily flustered confusion painted him. "What are we even doing, anyway? Seeing a movie?"

I playfully tapped my chin in thought. "Too tacky for my taste."

"Going to lunch?" he questioned thoughtfully.

"Seen it a thousand times before. Embarrassing and sloppy."

"Then what?" His voice had dropped low and sweet, a teasing seductiveness hidden behind the little laugh he added to it.

I looked right into those judgment free, warm, passionate eyes that I had come to find my safe haven.

Taking his hand again without shame, I said simply, "I guess we're going to have to find out."

. . .

After what seemed like hours of mindless bickering, we finally decided on a sort-of picnic. Well, he did. Not a full-on-checkered-blanket and all that, but just a few snacks and bottles of root beer. That was his idea, modified to the point we both agreed. But I made it my duty to pick the place.

Giving him the directions, I told him the specific directions to the place I wanted him to go. It was slightly hidden, so you had to be strict with when and where you needed to turn and veer, otherwise you'd either pass it or, if you went to far, wind up lost. I'd experienced that the hard way.

"Okay, follow me; this'll take just the smallest bit of effort." Beck gave a pretend whine and picked up the bags containing our little groups of food.

I started up the incline, brushing away branches mindlessly and my feet led the way. Dim memories flooded to the surface, threatening to take me. But I was good at pushing things away—I did it all the time. So I took a deep breath and, realizing I'd stopped momentarily, and pushed forward.

After my moment of weakness and hesitation, I didn't look back at Beck, didn't stop to admire remnants of memories that kept creeping into my consciousness; just kept pushing forward, throwing deadened branches out of my path and stepping over logs and rocks.

Before I knew it, there it was before me. My place. The place that I was letting someone else invade for the first time since…since the person who brought me here.

Thankfully, it was one of those days that made this place seem less ugly. The day where the sun shone overhead, causing the strange flowers to bloom and cover up its dead, grayish-brown state. The peculiar flowers were everywhere, and after coming here so often, I decided to call them "bleeding roses". The very bottom of the rose was a pale-ish pink color, like the color of skin, and then as you traveled up, turned into deeper and deeper shades of red until it finally melted into black at the very tops of the petals. Other than this rare trace of beauty dotting the browning and graying grass, the general area of it, I'll admit, was hideous. Everything was scarred with smoke from the fire that took it many years ago, dead, or dying. It was lifeless.

Taking a deep breath, I turned around slowly, waiting for Beck's inevitable reaction.

My blue eyes looked for his immediately, knowing there would be no bodily movements giving away a sense of shock, or anything I seemed to be expecting.

His warm brown eyes showed nothing of what I thought they would. Shock, confusion, hurt, sadness, pity. I certainly didn't expect what I _did _see.

Okay, I had to face it. As much as I hated the word, it was there, and it was true. _Love_. I resisted outwardly cringing at the pathetic word, a word that had never been able to enter my vocabulary once in my whole life. But it was defiantly shining in his steady gaze as Beck took in every inch, every centimeter, of this deformed and wounded patch of meadow. And then they finally rested on me, and they crinkled just ever so slightly when he broke a large smile.

Quickly covering up his very characteristic action, he shifted it into a sense of admiring criticism. Looking around thoughtfully, he said, "Interesting choice. Not exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh yeah, and what was that? I lush, green meadow or park, with butterflies fluttering by pitifully and birds twittering annoyingly? With sickeningly cheerful little kids running by and bothering us? So sorry to disappoint." I smirked, knowing he was joking, but feeling a bit offended for some irrational reason.

Slowly putting down the bags of snacks, he crossed over to me and braced his hands on my shoulders, his brown eyes boring into mine. There were those pitiful butterflies fluttering _inside _me, again.

"No, you didn't. It's perfect." His hot breath brushed my face, his sweet scent intensified in the close space in between us. But that wasn't what got me the most; not him taking my hands in his gentle, strong ones; not him smiling so much just because he was here, with me, of all people to be happy with. The simple implication behind that phrase is what made my knees practically give out, what melted my insides to hopeless mush. The fact that he thought _I _was perfect.

I smiled back genuinely, and looked down at our connected hands, not able to control myself anymore. And I did something then—so foreign, so hard to accept that I actually was doing it—that I nearly broke down and wept like a stupid little girl.

I, Jade West, blushed.

Yeah, I know, it's not really much of a significant milestone, but it was for me. I'd never had anyone be able to penetrate all my guarded layers so deeply and nearly irreparably that I was so unbelievably vulnerable. But Beck wasn't the kind of person who would ever take advantage of that. After just 2 days of knowing him personally, there was just something about him. I couldn't put my finger on what I liked about him so much. Normally, if this were anyone else, their undying devotion and unwavering kindness would sicken me and cause me to lash out against them just to stop its overwhelming foolishness. But this wasn't any other person. This was the first person in my life to care about me as an equal person, maybe even more. Not a bully, not the all-powerful 'ice queen', as I'd heard one of his little posse members call me one day. Just _me_. Jade West.

With the intense, unfamiliar hotness heating my face like an oven, the effect it had on me was something neither of us expected: I let two single teardrops roll down each cheek.

Those gentle, caring eyes of his immediately witnessed this rare event. But instead of immediately bringing me into a comforting, safe embrace like I knew he wanted to, he distanced the space in between us by just the smallest inch, but enough that he could reach up a thumb from our intertwined hands and wipe each delicate drop of salty water from my face. A curtain of hair separated his sight from me just enough so I could quickly compose myself under its temporary protection. But before I could take that one deep, quick, steadying breath of finality that usually helped me back to my guarded self, Beck moved his thumbs from stroking my face to under my chin, and pulled it up gently but strongly to meet his. Not able or willing to struggle out of his compelling face, I felt my bottom lip quiver just ever so slightly. Though I didn't think it was possible, he somehow saw it, and finally pulled me into that protective, reassuring embrace he had so ready all the time.

Instead of just standing there and taking it like a statue like I did the first time, I leaned gratefully into the hug, pulling myself against him, wishing that I could blend myself into his never-ending aura of care.

This time _he _was the one to pull away first, and I knew he could plainly see the hurt on my face. He took my hand and, tugging it gently, asked, "So, aren't you gonna show me around?"

Smiling, I replied, "Sure." Turning around and pointing out things as I pulled him towards the middle of the 'dead-ow', I joked, "Okay. So there is a burned tree, over there is where a bird's nest was, I think, that's the sky, that's the sun, and all around you are bleeding roses."

His face turned confused and inquisitive. "'Bleeding roses'?" he asked.

Plopping down on the crunchy, fragile grass, I reached over for the bags of root beer and food and cracked open a bottle. I took a big gulp. "Yeah. Or, at least, that's what I call them. Y'know, cuz it looks like they're bleeding…" My voice trailed off as I realized how creepy that turned out sounding. It sounded perfectly fine, normal even, in my head. Then again, I _had _been coming here since I was little and named them myself. Of course they sounded normal to me. They must have sounded dark to anyone else. Suddenly I was uncomfortably self-conscious.

But instead of looking at me like I was a total freak, he swiftly plucked one and stuck the interesting flower in my hair. Brushing a nearby strand of pale pink back, he whispered, "Beautiful." I couldn't help thinking he meant the flower.

After several minutes of mindless munching, sipping, and silent admiration of this place's lost beauty, Beck finally asked what I could tell was eating away at his brain.

"So, why are we here?" His voice was quiet and cautious.

I stopped chewing immediately and looked down, thinking over my answer. I already knew why, but I wasn't sure how to open up to anyone verbally. I suppose several coerced trips to the guidance counselor's office should've prepared me for something like this; then again, they were never very successful in getting me to talk, either.

I started with Beck's main argument in his childish devotion. "You said you wanted to get to know me, right?" He just nodded, listening carefully.

And so I began. "There are probably so many questions you have about me, many that you've already addressed. Why I'm always so angry and on edge, why I push everyone away. Why we're here." I gave a hard laugh at the last question, memories pushing their way to the front of my mind. But I quieted them until I was ready for them.

"It all starts with when I was a little girl. Pigtails and frilly, bright dresses. If you can imagine that." Another harsh chuckle from me, while Beck remained silent and breathing in every word. "My father. No, I guess you could say my father started it all. He was who I looked up to. He was my favorite person in the world."

I got lost within myself, barely remembering that I was sitting in the middle of a meadow with Beck. Instead, I was a small child again, a bright yellow, polka-dotted dress billowing out around me, hair in curly pigtails tied back with ribbons. My mother was hopelessly in love, young, and juvenile. My father was the same, but more responsible and down-to-earth. But despite his firmness with the very real responsibilities he had to fulfill in life as opposed to the happy, perfect world my mother and I created for him, we did everything together. He took me to his job at the auto-body shop, showed me how to fix up cars, what kinds of cars there were and how they were built. We watched TV together. We played games together. He took me out for ice cream and a walk downtown every day.

"And he took me here," I said, barely realizing I was still narrating a story to Beck. "While everywhere else was very public and buzzing, this was _our _place. Back then, this place was lush and green and full of life, just like it should be. Just like it was." I sighed, reveling in the memory of how it used to be as I clenched a fist around a patch of crunchy, grayish grass. I watch as it crumbles practically to dust in my grasp.

"This was our place," I repeated, momentarily losing my train of thought. "He took me here every day, and we'd make up and play games, sometimes just lie in the grass and watch the clouds roll by or try to spot some animals.

"It was three days before my 7th birthday. Mom and Dad got into the worst possible fight my innocent mind could believe. It was at night, so I was supposed to be asleep. But I had stayed awake all night, unable to shake the sounds of their yelling from my brain. And then I heard my door creak open," I continued, my voice almost a whisper. Turns out this opening-up thing was easier than I thought.

"Not wanting to anger either of them further, I pretended to be sleeping like a good girl. I heard my father set some heavy things on the floor, and then he crossed over to my bed. I remained perfectly still and quiet. I was terrified, not able to think about what was happening. He planted a stubbly kiss on my forehead, and whispered in his husky voice, 'Goodbye, princess'."

I had one arm wrapped around myself, my knees up to my chest, my chin resting on them. But I never removed my right hand from Beck's. Hot tears were burning in my eyes, but I refused to let them spill over.

"I never saw him again. I don't even know where he is today. But needless to say, after that, everything spiraled downward. My mother went into a state between depression and shock, just sitting in bed every day of her life, heartbroken, ordering takeout and installing a mini-fridge next to her bed stocked with snacks and drinks. I was left alone, to fend for myself. I learned never to let anyone inside, because all they'd do is hurt you."

Beck's hand squeezed mine reassuringly. I knew he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare interrupt me, knowing he'd never get a chance like this again.

Coming back to reality, I looked Beck straight in the eyes as I finished my elongated anecdote. "You want to know why I hate the world? Because everything reminds me of him. The cheerfulness on everyone's faces, reminding me how happy he made me. The vanilla blondes and chocolate brunettes in our school remind me of the ice creams he bought me every other day. Everything, Beck. Everything. Have you noticed how I like to pick on guys the most? Because it gives me a sense of revenge, like I'm getting back at him. For leaving me alone. For ruining _everything_."

I felt those burning tears on the brink, and unwillingly let one fall. But one was all I would allow. Beck caught it, and tugged me fiercely into the most comforting embrace of all the ones he's given me. He sat me on his lap like I was a small child again, and buried my face in his chest, listening to his heart beat as he kept an iron grip on me, stroking my hair. I bit my bottom lip so hard it should've bled, just to satisfy my pride and keep myself from sobbing.

Still not letting go of me, his body shielded me protectively from anything that dared to harm me, physically or mentally.

With all the passion from every fiber of his being, he said, "I will _never _hurt you."


	8. Chapter 7

**Okay, first of all, I'm SOOOO sorry I haven't posted in forever! I've been wicked busy and honestly just haven't had time, nor have I had inspiration (which has depressed me immensely because I really want to continue this story). I owe you all a serious apology Dx**

**Okay, still don't have much planned for this chapter. Let's see where this goes. Haha **

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: BECK'S P.O.V.! I know, shocker, right?**

**. . .**

Previously on VAL:

I felt those burning tears on the brink, and unwillingly let one fall. But one was all I would allow. Beck caught it, and tugged me fiercely into the most comforting embrace of all the ones he's given me. He sat me on his lap like I was a small child again, and buried my face in his chest, listening to his heart beat as he kept an iron grip on me, stroking my hair. I bit my bottom lip so hard it should've bled, just to satisfy my pride and keep myself from sobbing.

Still not letting go of me, his body shielded me protectively from anything that dared to harm me, physically or mentally.

With all the passion from every fiber of his being, he said, "I will _never _hurt you."

. . .

In my wildest dreams, I'd never expected anything like this to happen. I don't think my mind was even capable of conjuring up the idea of Jade West, the toughest, most powerful girl in the school, bundling herself up in a tightly compacted ball and revealing her deepest secrets to me, in full confidence. I wouldn't have even begun to _think _of her hunting me down to apologize for being sopping wet and late for our…"get-together", let's call it, let alone her even _coming_. And I would have _never_, in the deepest part of my brain, been able to realize the incredible future that came with accidentally catching her eye on one average day that turned out to be anything _but_.

And yet here we are.

Though she switched positions a few times due to the intensity of her story, I noticed she never took her hand out of mine. I wasn't sure if this meant her trusting me, if she just needed some kind of anchor to bring her back out of her traumatizing walk down memory lane, or a combination of both. Either way, I was flattered, and scared—for her.

Her jewel blue eyes burned red with tears and she turned her head away slightly, as if embarrassed. But finally, she'd come back to the present. I noticed her struggle to pull them back, to not let one fall no matter what she did. But, out of her control, one did. Immediately, I brushed it away gently, and it seemed to soothe her. She drew her gaze to my face, her version of an unspoken "thank you".

I pulled her onto my lap, stroking her hair, cooing to her, shushing her, slightly rocking her, as if I could somehow provide the affection that abandoned her at such a young age in only a few minutes. We didn't speak; no words were necessary. We didn't make any noise, except for her weeping briefly before forcing herself to compose, and then there was only comfortable silence.

But there was one thing I needed to say…needed to promise her.

Clutching her tighter, resting my cheek in her soft, colored hair, I whispered fiercely, "I will _never _hurt you."

. . .

His words triggered something inside me. Something I'd never felt before, in my _life_, and no matter how dramatic that sounded, it was true. But it built in my stomach and chest—along with the heavily needed tears—and finally exploded with invisible force throughout every fiber of my being. It warmed me, filled me up, and I clutched closer to that comforting feeling, and then I realized…

…I was clutching Beck even tighter.

At that precise moment, the realization finally hit me. The sensation that had just overwhelmed me…what it was. That the physical manifestation of that feeling was sitting right here with me, holding me, stroking my hair, cooing my name. And that feeling had no other name that I could have avoided to prevent some kind of gushy, pathetic phenomenon from occurring: love. I resisted cringing at the previously lifeless term, and realized why I had the strength and willpower to do so. Because that term was finally here, protecting me from everything and anything.

And what would my love be, you ask? You should be smart enough to figure this out by now.

Love was Beck Oliver.

. . .

After what seemed like a perfect eternity of losing ourselves in each other's breaths, she finally looked up at me. But what I saw in her face was nothing like I'd ever seen her portray before.

Jade was smiling. Genuinely, toothily, happily smiling.

What could I do to help smiling just as strongly back?

. . .

Driven with the shyness but fiery passion of my newly realized emotion, I drew my gaze up to Beck's face, memorizing it. The way his cinnamon brown eyes danced with all the kindness in the world, the way his lips pulled up into a winning smile when I smiled at him. I felt like a giddy flirt, but at the same time, I was terrified.

God, all these new sheepish-schoolgirl emotions were getting pretty annoying.

I was terrified that, even though I felt like I knew he wouldn't betray my trust, wouldn't share my secrets to anyone, wouldn't hurt me, like he'd just promised, I realized I couldn't know completely. Though it felt like I'd known him my entire life, I'd only been in his company for a few days. But I still foolishly trusted him with everything I had.

Then came the gushiness. How my eyes grazed dreamily over his face, how I couldn't stop smiling no matter what I tried, how I resisted going into a giggling fit that went against all my characteristics, how he smiled right back and kept holding me, fondling my hair.

Then genuine joy. Happiness that I'd finally found someone who appreciated who I was with no limits. He cared about who I was, where and what I'd come from, and why I acted the way I did. I felt rejuvenated at heart, and it beat faster with every breath he took.

He plucked a bleeding rose from the ground, and put it in my hair, a classic, tacky move that I'd seen done so many times in movies and at school, and yet it still succeeded in making me blush ever so slightly.

He brought our intertwined hands up in between us, and kissed my hand like a gentleman—another tackily adorable move. Brushing a stray hair away and tucking it behind my ear, I noticed him memorizing my face as I was doing just moments before.

We held each other's gazes for a while. And then…

…Beck Oliver leaned down and kissed me.

. . .

I couldn't resist it any longer. The feeling that had been burning in my heart, releasing the butterflies in my stomach and making it flop at the same time finally showed its true colors after being stuffed down for days, afraid she'd reject me at such an early stage of friendship. But I knew, and _it _certainly knew, that I wanted more than friendship.

I'd stroked her hair more lovingly, carefully, tenderly than before, feeling the silkiness run through my hard hands. With the other, I fondled her face, memorizing it, taking in every smooth surface with the lightest touch, almost like a moth's wing. Her crystal eyes had a dreamy glaze on them; her cheeks had the slightest innocent pink hue to them. My eyes continued to wander across her features, and finally rested on the most endearing of all—her lips.

Hindering my desire wasn't an option anymore, and I didn't have the willpower to fight it this time. Cupping her chin delicately, I swiftly tilted my head down, and did the previously unthinkable.

I kissed the one and only Jade West.

. . .

Although we'd kissed once before, it was nothing compared to this. The first time had nothing to back it up—no emotion, no _passion_.

It was safe to say this was the total opposite.

His quickness caught me slightly off guard, but I can't say I didn't like it. In fact, I was as much in love with _this _kiss as I was with him. I decided to remember _this _as our first kiss.

His lips were fervent but gentle against mine, and tasted sweet as his breath ran over our connected mouths. His other hand momentarily occupied with cupping my chin—even though it wasn't like I was going anywhere—he took his hand out of mine slowly, running his fingers through my hair, gripping the back of my head, pulling me closer. Our lips moved in synchronized, affectionate motions, and I ran my hands through his thick black hair, drawing him closer to me, if possible that we could even get closer than we already were.

And then it was, disappointingly, over, both of us needing the air that sharing quick breaths unfortunately didn't supply.

Both of us panting, groping for air, I was momentarily unable to speak. And although Beck was in the same predicament as me, I saw him gasp in enough breath to utter the words it sounded like he'd needed to say for a long time.

"I love you."


	9. Chapter 8

**Okay, with my desperation to write driving me insane, ideas scattered, bouncing around in my head, I finally came up with this. I'm just gonna go with it and hope it turns out relatively good, haha. Had lots of help from Sweetheart_Ky. She's awesome! Thank you, friend! =)**

**A/N: Check out my profile for updates (located at the bottom of the biography-type-thing) about the stories I'm writing, as well as desperate shout outs to you guys for help occasionally. You can answer them through PM. Jade's P.O.V. As always, enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**. . .**

_Chapter 8_

Previously on VAL:

Both of us panting, groping for air, I was momentarily unable to speak. And although Beck was in the same predicament as me, I saw him gasp in enough breath to utter the words it sounded like he'd needed to say for a long time.

"I love you."

. . .

I nearly passed out again. His words were powerful enough to knock me off my feet, if my knees could even let me stand. Nobody had ever said those words to me, in that exact order, since my father's days with me. I barely remembered his or my mother's own voice, let alone anything they'd ever said to me. My father was a bitter memory, his voice a dim whisper in the back of my guarded mind; my mother's voice wasn't even hers anymore, on the rare occasions she yelled at me to get her something, so weak and foreign after years of depressed silence. Needless to say, it came as a complete shock.

If anyone else had said it to me, I'd probably beat them senseless. The words mocked me my whole life, and why shouldn't they? Nobody needed—let alone cared—to say them.

But not Beck. He was different. His words were true, not a cruel joke meant to traumatize me and poke fun at me. No, he meant it. I could tell the moment I looked into his cinnamon brown eyes, so full of warmth and elation.

For the first time in years, I felt hope. Genuine hope. I had come to think it didn't exist. But he, of all people, he—the annoying eye-stalker boy, the impulsive boy, the kiss-for-a-scene-and-pretend-it's-nothing boy, THAT boy—was the one who brought it back.

I was so awestruck, in fact, that I lost all control. Not mentally, though I did pretty heavily doubt my sanity after these past few days. I couldn't move, speak, could barely blink, and couldn't erase the goofy smile off my face or the bubblegum pink blush off my pale cheeks. The usual, bitter part of me would've practically slapped herself to stop herself. But it was like I couldn't find her. It was like I was being overtaken my complete opposite that I never knew existed—that I never knew COULD exist. It was terrifying. And exhilarating. And disgusting. And…incredible.

Beck's features, however, were completely in control, and what they demonstrated now was terror. He knew me well enough by now to know that my whiplash _hurts_. He was terrified, and I couldn't figure out why.

. . .

As soon as the words were uttered, I knew I must have made a mistake. Every inch of her screamed "paralyzed" and "shocked". Love was a touchy subject for her, and just rushing into the three most important words in nearly anyone's life after a few pleasant dates and special moments was like jumping out of a plane with no parachute. The crash of rejection would hurt. The only thing that could save me, my emergency parachute, would be if she felt the same way. I didn't even care if she said it or didn't at this point—I just wanted her to do something, _anything_. My heart was beating so fervently against my chest, it felt like it could bruise or break my rib cage.

I reached out a hand, gently, slowly, trying to make contact. "…Jade?" I pressed. "You okay?"

Her eyes came back into focus eventually, the giddy smile no longer looking mildly delusional. She focused her jewel blue orbs on mine, and nodded happily. Half laughing and half sighing from relief, I took her hand and pulled her up, our gazes never faltering. Then, I broke the silence.

"Come on," I urged, leaning down to pick up the soda bottles, "let's go."

She picked up the empty, crumby plastic bags absently, her brows knitting together briefly with confused curiosity. "Where are we going?"

I only smiled at her in response. "You'll see. Just wait."

. . .

As soon as I was properly seated in the passenger seat, Beck turned on me. I raised a finely trimmed brow, waiting.

"Well? Where are we going?"

Beck just shook his head, chuckling. "Close your eyes," he demanded.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"Close, your, eyes," he demanded again, each word brisk and short.

After giving him an exaggerated eye roll, I unwillingly closed my eyes, but only three quarters of the way, giving the appearance that they were. I wasn't missing out on this.

"_All _the way." He drew out the word "all".

I just shook my head stubbornly, eyes still partly closed.

I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye, then turn back to the road. "Fine," he conceded, "then we stay here."

"Fine with me."

We sat there for a while, the air quiet except for our breathing and Beck tapping his thumb gently on the wheel. Then I hear the faint rustling of the seat cover as he shifted himself towards me. I opened my eyes.

He was fully facing me now, his chin resting on his fist. His large, almost puppy-ish eyes were locked on mine. Nope, not budging. Faltering, maybe, but not budging.

He turned on the full effect of his brown orbs. "Please?" he said in a small voice; it was soft, almost a whisper. It was heartbreakingly persuasive.

My façade trembling, I refused to meet his eyes for a while, knowing I'd crack. But the silence was getting heavier and heavier with his simple plea, and finally I look at him.

Breaking, I reluctantly sighed. "_Okay_," I heaved, groaning in protest several times, but he smiled anyway. I closed my eyes completely, and after a few episodes of Beck waving his hand in front of my eyes, he was satisfied enough to thank me and start driving.

I hated surprises. Even people who didn't know me personally knew that. I tapped my foot, annoyed, on the floor of the car, arms crossed and hands fisted. This better be good.

Finally the car jerked to a stop and I heard him cut the engine, and I sighed in relief. "Can I open my eyes now?" I mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Not yet," I heard him say, and it sounded outside the car, on my side. I heard the passenger door open, and his hand found mine. He tugged, signaling me to get out.

I felt my way out, and he lightly grabbed my waist to steady me before placing his hand on the small of my back as a gentle guider. We went up what seemed like a rocky walkway, which was slightly slanted upwards. Then I was walking up concrete steps, and I heard Beck knocking.

"Now?" I said softer than before, not knowing what was appropriate for wherever I was.

He emanated an "mm-mm" from the back of his throat quickly, and then whispered, "There's someone I want you to meet."

The creak of a screen door met my ears, and Beck replaced his hand on my back with his arm wound tightly around my waist.

Even without my eyes open, I could significantly feel Beck's personality cool and could practically feel his smile. And without further explanation than his body movements, I heard the first formal greeting to this mystery person.

"Hi, Mom."


	10. Chapter 9

**Hello, fellow FanFictioners =) I've been having a fairly good week, how about you? If you're on February Vacation, I hope you're having fun! If not, hang in there, it's gonna be worth it! =)**

**With the help of the awesome Sweetheart_Ky, I now have inspiration for this chapter! =D Not sure where this is gonna go though. Enjoy! =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Jade's p.o.v. Remember to check out my profile for important updates and info! **

**. . .**

_Chapter 9_

Previously on VAL:

"There's someone I want you to meet."

The creak of a screen door met my ears, and Beck replaced his hand on my back with his arm wound tightly around my waist.

Even without my eyes open, I could significantly feel Beck's personality cool and could practically feel his smile. And without further explanation than his body movements, I heard the first formal greeting to this mystery person.

"Hi, Mom."

. . .

My eyes snapped open. I didn't care if Beck even wanted me to open them or not. My mouth fell open just the slightest bit with the initial shock, and then I had no less than three seconds to compose myself. Then I plastered on an awkward smile.

I was suddenly met with those warm, dark brown eyes that had looked me over without judgment that first night at Beck's. And then that awkward smile I was so used to putting on softened into a real one. I even let a few teeth show.

Suddenly I realized I never got a _really _good look at this woman. Her bob-style brown hair with the natural highlights of copper; her smooth, clear complexion. She had fair skin and honest features. And as of right then, I felt utterly and completely at home.

"Hello, Beck," the woman said, her voice gentle and calm. She drew her eyes, so full of love for her son, down to me. "And hello, dear. Aren't you just lovely?"

My smile twitched, not sure if she was joking or just overly sweet. Either way, I was oddly gracious for the simple compliment. I let out a small laugh in the back of my throat in response.

Beck's mom clapped her hands together and then rubbed them together, and looked at Beck with questioning eyes. Still holding his gaze, she motioned in a smooth gesture towards the door, beckoning me inside. I unhooked myself from Beck's strong grip and cautiously made my way inside.

The inside was nearly as home-y as the outside; it was practically the picture-perfect emblem of the typical American household. Delicately and intricately woven rugs in warm, inviting colors, replica paintings of famous people or famous scenes, a red brick fireplace toward the front of the living room with a TV on the mantle; it was just so…so...pure. It was such a significant shift from me and my mother's dinky little apartment, filled with trash, anger and bitter tragedy; a place where the overall smell and atmosphere of it just screamed _gray_ and _somber_. It was packed with painful memories and miscommunication, with fights and yelling. The only visions I got from this place was a family gathering together to watch a football game on Sunday night; of a little girl in pigtails and bubblegum pink dresses; of a little boy in trousers and a t-shirt, petting a large dog, with happy, still-together parents observing from the couch and wrapped in each other's arms.

I was so wrapped up in this foreign feeling of belonging that I barely even noticed that Beck and his mother hadn't immediately followed me inside.

. . .

My mom motioned for Jade to come inside, and she seemed to do so willingly. But as I stared after her, completely transfixed, my mother gently held me back with her as she watched Jade go inside too.

When she felt Jade was a safe distance away, Mom turned toward me with curious eyes. I shrugged.

"So, who's that, honey?" Mom asked, crossing her arms, an eyebrow playfully rose.

"She's…a friend." She didn't buy it, and I honestly was hoping she wouldn't. I wanted to tell her everything. "All right, she's…she's…amazing. She really is. I never thought I could be this lucky. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.

She broke out a knowing smile, and patted my arm. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. As long as you're crazy about her, she's welcome here anytime." Then she stood up on her tip-toes and kissed my forehead. It's amazing how gushy moms can be about almost anything.

I was just wiping it off when I saw Jade turn and look at us, that guarded look I knew all too well back in her eyes.

. . .

I knew it. I just knew it. I was just so used to that subtlety, that quiet pull-over between family members whenever I met someone new. That little "family meeting", where they discuss how much of a freak I am and what's wrong with me. The member I'd grown to know and who brought me here would try and defend me, but the rest of them would try to ease them out of knowing me, convince them I was a bad idea. It had happened enough for me to recognize it instantly.

I had a feeling Mrs. Oliver's smile was flimsy. Plenty of moms had given that same fake smile to me many times before. Why did I think she'd be any different? Just because Beck was…well, special? Special to me? Because I was willing to look past anything because he had me by my heartstrings? Why was I suddenly so gullible and trusting? I don't belong here.

I crossed my arms and turned fully to face Beck and his mother, but kept my eyes down as soon as Beck caught them.

Keeping my eyes on my tapping right foot, I asked in a small, clipped voice, "Should I leave?"

He quickly strode over to me, his brows knitting together under his black bangs, and placed his hands on my forearms, silently pleading to look back up at him. I did, for a fleeting second.

He gave up the gentle attempt, and grasped my chin, pulling it up to meet his face. I held his gaze steadily, despite my insides breaking.

"Why would you think that?" he half-whispered, astonishment coloring his words, frosted with hurt.

I narrowed my eyes defensively. "I know what _that_"—I jerked my head in the general direction of their gathering—"little meeting was over there. I know it _all _too well."

His expression was still dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"

I quieted my voice to a rushed whisper. "You mom was talking you out of me, wasn't she? Telling you all the things that were wrong with me, her skepticism? Lots of people have done it before; I wouldn't be surprised if your family got the wrong idea about me too."

He immediately shook his head, and pulled me into the tightest embrace I'd ever been given, his hand smoothing my hair. His cheek rested against my scalp. I clung to his back and dug my face into his shoulder.

His breath tickling my ear, he whispered, "Never think anyone here would do that. We love you. I love you."

I just buried my face further into that little nook between his neck and shoulder.

When we finally broke apart, his mother came tentatively over, and said softly, "Actually, dear, we were discussing how much I welcome you home. You're free to come here any time you like." She smiled at me again, and this time it didn't feel fake. I smiled back.

Despite the rocky start—which, I will admit _just _this once, was _almost_ all my fault—the day turned for the better. Beck and his mother answered any questions that came up, from why he lives in an RV to what his favorite toy was when he was a little kid. Mrs. Oliver made us tea, and we mostly just sat around the embers of the dying fire discussing everything. I couldn't remember being so happy and, mostly, so _open_. I was fearless. And it felt good.

But then that time ended, eventually. And the bleakness that haunted me constantly eased its way back into my consciousness.

We said goodbye to Mrs. Oliver, fingers intertwined, something else I never did. I hated holding hands. It got sweaty, then awkward, then distanced. Yet here I was, making another mark in my history with Beck. How could one boy almost completely change nearly overnight?

When we were seated back in his car, he instantly sensed something was wrong.

"Hey," he started, "what's wrong?"

I just looked down, trying to compose myself.

"Did I say something? Was that too…well…bold? Soon? I'm sorry if it was, I just—"

I shook my head vigorously, trying to silently shut him up. He didn't need to feel guilty for anything. He did nothing wrong. I was just trying to figure out how to put together my thoughts to explain to him what was going to happen.

"Beck," I interjected, "you did _nothing _wrong. In fact, you gave me the best experience of my life. I hadn't felt that way since…well, you know." I lowered my voice toward the end. He nodded.

"But…when I get home, all that's gonna be erased. When I get back to my apartment, all that's going to happen is my mom will stay locked up in her disgusting room, watching soap operas all day while cuddling a box of tissues, and occasionally yell at me for something, whether it's for food or just because she feels like yelling. Then I'll go into my room and isolate myself from the world like I usually do until I fall asleep."

Beck nodded, and his eyes drifted down, brows coming together in deep thought. Then, without a word, he revved the engine, and took off flying down the road.

"Beck? _Beck_! Where are you _going_?" I was honestly getting a little scared. I'd never seen him like this. He kept silent the entire time, except for the brief, sharp question of where I lived.

He pulled into my driveway, and made me take him upstairs to my apartment. I couldn't help but keep asking why, but he still didn't answer.

When we got inside, I kept apologizing for the mess and smell, but he didn't seem to mind. All he did was make a beeline for one particular door, the one with sounds of suppressed sobbing behind it.

And then he practically kicked it open.


	11. Chapter 10

**Hello, my amazing readers =) I've been having an oddly great week. How has your Spring Break been? If you're not on it yet, what do you plan to do? **

**Okay, I know a lot of people have been patiently waiting for the new chapter of VAL, and I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting so long. I've been on a Tangled high for months now (still am, admittedly ;). So, without further ado, I present to you the latest chapter (I hope this goes well, I have no plans for this at all). Enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Starts off with Jade's p.o.v. Brief warning, though—this chapter has quite a few swears. Not really bad ones, but still, be cautious. Check my profile for updates, polls, and questions for you all. **

**. . .**

_Chapter 10_

Previously on VAL:

He pulled into my driveway, and made me take him upstairs to my apartment. I couldn't help but keep asking why, but he still didn't answer.

When we got inside, I kept apologizing for the mess and smell, but he didn't seem to mind. All he did was make a beeline for one particular door, the one with sounds of suppressed sobbing behind it.

And then he practically kicked it open.

. . .

My eyes widened in pure terror. No, he wasn't doing this. He couldn't be. He wasn't really going to scream living fear into my mother, was he?

I clutched his arm, pulling him back. I could practically feel the anger radiating off of the muscles of his arm, let alone his entire body.

"Beck, _no_!" I grabbed his cheek and turned his face towards me, forcing him to look at me. "You can't do this. At least not angrily. Believe me, I've tried. It only makes it worse," I explained, softening my voice toward the end. I internally cursed myself for the tenderness. As much as I hated the woman, I still felt the daughterly need to protect her.

Beck just stared at me, his face appearing torn.

"Please?" I whispered, momentarily thankful that my mother was so far gone that she didn't even notice our blunt, loud entrance. "If you're going to do anything, just do it...gently. Calmly. Please?"

His face remained stone.

"For me?" I begged. "Please?"

Sighing, his chiseled face softened, and he recovered the actor in himself, composing his expression into one of kindness and aid. Only his cinnamon eyes remained fiery.

We strode over to my mother's bedside, the ancient TV squawking some nonsense in the background, my mother passed out in a pile of wet tissues and pillows.

Beck plastered a smile on his lips as he sat in the cushioned chair next to the bed. My father's chair. I sat down next to him on the identical blue chair beside it. Then I looked at him, my eyes full of disgust and hopelessness. I certainly wasn't going to shake her awake. I wouldn't even touch her.

He sensed my discomfort, and grudgingly reached over a hand, giving my mother a firm shove that turned her over. Looking back at me for help, I shrugged, and he did it again. And again. She did nothing.

"Mrs. West..." Beck said quietly, shaking my mother. "Mrs. West...Mrs. West. _Mrs. West_. Mrs. West!"

Mom snorted loudly and slowly awoke, looking disoriented and...well...awful.

"Who the hell are you?" she snapped the moment her eyes focused on Beck, her voice deep and raspy.

Beck appeared unfazed, like he was expecting it. Or maybe he was just a better actor than I thought. "Mrs. West, I'm a...friend of Jade's. It's come to my attention that she's been...mistreated at home." I felt him tense up, and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"'Da hell you talkin' 'bout? Who told you that?" she spat back.

"Mom," I started, "be nice."

"I'll do whatever I wanna do, Jade." She turned back to Beck. "Keep goin'."

Beck's mask quivered for a split second. "Please forgive me if I'm being too bold, Mrs. West, but I sincerely care about Jade and would do anything to see her happy. But, and I hope you'll answer this honestly—do you feel like you've been the best mother you can to her?"

In any other circumstance, I would've smirked as I realized he was taking his whole approach from one of Sikowitz's classes. We had to choose an average occupation and create a scene for that occupation and perform it in front of the class for a major grade. Coincidentally, his was a therapist and/or counselor. Lucky he had experience, real or not, or else we'd still be at the doorway fighting over him literally knocking some sense into her. In any other circumstance, I'd laugh from the familiarity. In any other circumstance, I'd smile at how much he cares, no matter how insane he is for doing so. But in this particular circumstance, all I could do is fight back tears and bite my lip anxiously.

My mother snapped her tired, angry gray eyes to me, and I resisted the urge to jump. "Jade, can you please shut your friend up?" Back to Beck again. "You, sir, have no right to be here and be asking such questions. But, to answer your question, I give her food, a roof over her head, an education—what else does she need?"

He fastened those big, brown eyes on me, searching for any discomfort other than what I was already feeling. But I was fine as long as he was here. He could do whatever he wanted.

"Love?" Beck said simply, saying it as if it were a question.

"What are you talkin' about? I give her that."

I shook my head, fighting back tears. Damn. I don't cry. I held my breath, trying not to let a tear spill.

"Jade?" my mother addressed me in her harsh voice.

"No, Mom, you don't." I took a shaky breath, knowing if there was any good time to get this off my chest, now was it.

Beck, done talking, grabbed my hand in both of his for support.

"Look. Ever since Dad left—which was, what, how long ago?—all you've done is mope and cry and detach yourself from the rest of the world. You abandoned life. You...you abandoned _me_. I could care less now, I'm my own person now, no thanks to you. But I really could've used you growing up. When I got my heart broken for the first time. When my elementary school best friend and I got in our first fight; when she moved across the country and I lost touch with her and had no one to talk to. When I went to the mall alone for the first time, you forgot to pick me up, and I had to call a taxi at 10 years old. When I started high school. Where'd you go, Mom? Seriously? So Dad left. So what? I loved him just as much as you did, but I got over it because I had to and had to face the world. I grew up. I moved on. But what the hell did you do? You curled up in bed with countless boxes of tissues, locked your door, ignored all interaction, and cried incessantly."

I saw my mother's eyes start to get shiny with tears, but ignored it. I could care less about how she feels now. She couldn't buy back the last 9½ years of my life that she wasted. Beck squeezed my hand.

"I..." my mother started, her raspy voice weaker than usual. "I...I don't know what to say. I-I'm sorry, Jade."

Realizing I'd left myself vulnerable, I caked another layer of concrete around my heart, my crystal blue eyes transforming into onyx. "Yeah, well, it's a bit late for that, isn't it?" I grabbed Beck's wrist and pulled him up, the tears right on the brink. "Come on, Beck, we're leaving."

A little disoriented, he willingly followed, us leaving my mother behind without a second thought.

After a wordless beeline for Beck's car, I slammed my passenger door and crossed my arms, waiting for him to settle himself in beside me.

He coughed awkwardly. "So...that went...well?"

My chin was quivering against my will. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, trying to block out whatever just happened back there. "Why...did you _do _that?" I whispered furiously.

Beck looked stunned. "I-I was just trying to help—"

"Okay, well don't try anymore," I snapped, cutting him off.

There was that mad fire back in his cinnamon eyes again. "_So _sorry for trying to make you happy, Jade. What did you want me to do, huh? Just sit back and watch you spiral deeper and deeper into your dark little world? Do you know how much that would kill me?"

"Well what about me? I was perfectly fine before you went in a screwed things up. I'd accepted that I was alone in the world. I was on top. Then you come along and...and...ugh, I don't even _know_!"

Beck's knuckles were clenched so tight around the steering wheel they were white, his jaw hard. "So, what happens now? Do we just give up and pretend like none of this ever happened? That you didn't completely open up to me, trust me even? That I didn't admit that I'm in love with you after only a few days? Or are we going to try to work through this?"

My pulse is racing, my hands in fists, beating against my bouncing leg, trying to distract myself. I still had my eyes shut, a single tear leaking through my lashes.

"Ask me in a few days. I need to think."

"Me too."

I shoved open his car door and practically jumped out, foot tapping vigorously against the concrete. I looked at him through the window, wishing for an apology—from either of us, really—but knowing none would come. His usually forgiving, playful brown eyes were dark and troubled when he turned them on me for a moment.

Then he revved the engine and drove away the exact same time I went racing down the street in the opposite direction, crying.


	12. Chapter 11

**Okay, so...this is the last official CHAPTER of VAL. I apologize for ending it so soon! But my reasons will be explained in the next "chapter", the epilogue. Thank you all so much for supporting this story! I'm so happy you all liked it!**

**Much love sent your way...enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: Starts off with Jade's p.o.v. I don't know if any of you will be expecting what happens in this chapter. If you did...I salute you (and apologize, for I'm obviously not good at climaxes xD). Check out my profile for things you should know to look for by the ELEVENTH CHAPTER OF THIS STORY. Jeez, read already.**

**. . .**

Previously on VAL:

I shoved open his car door and practically jumped out, foot tapping vigorously against the concrete. I looked at him through the window, wishing for an apology—from either of us, really—but knowing none would come. His usually forgiving, playful brown eyes were dark and troubled when he turned them on me for a moment.

Then he revved the engine and drove away the exact same time I went racing down the street in the opposite direction, crying.

. . .

It's been three days.

Three painful, long, brutal days.

It's spring break now, and not one bit of contact has been received from Beck, making my days even more brutally long and boring than before.

I decided it was too much. I couldn't deal with the silence for much longer...especially not from Beck. He was supposed to be my safe place, my rock. And I was terrified that rock had sunk far below the ocean, too far for me to reach it again.

Figuring I'd surprise him—since I seemed to be _so _good at doing it—I practically jumped into my car with anxiety, not willing to waste another moment of being with him. Don't get me wrong, I was still pretty mad at him. I mean, he had no right to barge into my mother's room like that and completely toy with my life...but at the same time, I was grateful for it. I mean, who else would've done it? If I'd have left my mother alone and depressed in her room, she'd probably wind up dying not from old age, but from suffocating under the mountain of tissues on her.

And he _had _helped, after all. My mother finally got out of her pitiful bedroom after years of being confined in there, and actually attempting to make food. Granted it was popcorn and she wound up burning it, but at least she tried _something _other than sobbing. She was walking and moving again, learning to use things in the world that had come out since...well...whenever. She ordered herself a new laptop and got rid of the computer dinosaur in our neglected dining room, set up a profile on one of those social networking sites, starting talking to her friends again...and overall, she just seemed happier. The house could use some cleaning, though.

I pull to the top of Beck's drive and park hurriedly. My car was probably halfway out into the street, but I couldn't care less. There was only one thing on my mind, and that was Beck.

I nearly run up to his RV door, and my fist is just about to knock, when it flings open and there stands Beck, enraged and extremely upset.

"Beck?" I ask, beyond surprised and instantly on alert, worried. My left hand subconsciously stretches in his direction, wishing to comfort him, but deciding now might be a bad time. It falls back to my side.

"_Jade_? What are you doing here?" His voice is almost panicked.

"I...I came to see you...I think to apologize. Wh-What's going on?" My voice is shaking, and my neck is stretching beyond its normal length, desperately trying to peer around him into his RV.

I manage, and what I see makes my heart skip a beat. My blue orbs land on Beck's sweet mom with identical tear streams as Beck's on her cheeks, and then they quickly notice a tall man in a business suit who looks like Beck, but with short, cropped hair and piercing, cold green eyes.

The man fixes his eyes on me. Continuing to stare, he snaps at his son, "Who is this?"

Beck grabs my hand and I immediately involuntarily blush. I'm just about to speak up, when Beck goes, "This is Jade. She's the most amazing girl I've ever met and was checking in on me to make sure I'm okay. Do you have a problem with that, _Dad_?" He says the name with malice.

My jaw instantly drops, but I'm not completely sure what did it: the immense compliment or the fact that I've never seen Beck this...this..._harsh_. Blunt. _Cruel_.

Beck's father retains the same cold exterior as before, but his voice is somehow slightly softer. "Yes, but—"

"Save it," he interjects. "Come on, Jade, let's go." He tugs my hand, tightly clasped around his, but I have a hard time moving.

I'm a bit dazed and confused. "B-Um...Beck? Beck, where are we going?" Beck was practically dragging me by the hand to his truck.

"Just get in," he responds, struggling to keep his voice kind with me. His parents—particularly his father—are yelling after us, but Beck ignores them and slams his foot down on the gas pedal.

I soon recognize the area, and some unknown force tugs at my heartstrings. When we hike up the all-too-familiar hill and I stop at the lush space of bleeding roses, Beck continues into the very center of the field. I wrap my arms around myself, like I'm almost hugging myself, a nervous habit I picked up over the years that seemed to become significantly pronounced in the past few weeks.

I watch him carefully, staring in disbelief as I see my rock crumble into a million pieces, and collapse to the ground onto his knees. He braces his hands on his kneecaps, and turns his face away from me in shame. But I saw that tear. I saw it roll off of his face, right into the black middle of a bleeding rose in front of him, glistening like a crystal in the moonlight on its way down.

His head shifts slightly towards me,and when he speaks, his voice is husky and weak. "I'm...I'm sorry you had to see that, Jade." He gulps and struggles to take a deep, steadying breath. His hands ball into shaking fists. "It's just that...you're not the only one who has 'daddy issues'."

A few minutes of silence goes by, and I gulp. "I know...well, actually, I just...didn't...at least, not...not about you..." I meekly respond, trying to make what came out make sense.

"Nobody does."

Tiny shreds of courage made my voice a bit stronger. "I just always assumed...I mean, he bought you that RV...and..."

"He's gotten me other things too...that doesn't mean he's, well, _good_," he tries to explain.

I stare, not fully comprehending, my arms crossed awkwardly, tensely.

He sighs as he looks up at my confused face, his cinnamon eyes shining with hurt in the streaks of moonlight coming through the trees. "My dad...he buys stuff for my mom and I to make up for...well, the stuff he does wrong. But when we confront him about them...he...doesn't take it well. As you probably saw back there."

He changes his position so that now he's sitting cross-legged on the ground, his hands gripping his temples, slightly pulling the hair near there. His face looks like it's in pain.

I'd never been good at comforting people. Nobody had ever done it for me before Beck, and I hated everyone else...but him. I walked over to him tentatively, and sat down close beside him. After several minutes of agonizing silence, I pulled him to me in an embrace similar to the one he gave me here just a few days ago, though it felt like years. But instead of him on my lap, I pull him up into a standing position and hug him fully and tightly from the front. He rests his face in my hair, and squeezes his eyes shut, pulling me even closer into him, and I clutch him tighter. I can feel his muscles ripple underneath his shirt as he struggles not to cry.

We stay like this for a long time, holding each other, comforting each other, protecting each other like we now found natural. My insides were tearing apart at his torture, and I suddenly remembered something that I owed him. Something that I realized was so important and true that I was surprised I'd never said it before.

Trying not to cry myself, I pressed my face into his torso. "I love you, Beck," I whispered into his chest.

. . .

I couldn't have heard her right. Could I?

"What did you say?" I ask, voice emanating awe, lifting my face from her hair to look at her beautiful face.

She turned it up to me, and with a fire blazing in her eyes that I'd never seen before, she said louder, "I love you."

Stunned, shocked, elated, and exuberant, I grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her in for the kiss of her life.

And while our lips moved in perfect synchronization, I felt a strong omen burning between us, a ringing realization that sent both of us plummeting into a sea of pure, unadulterated passion and head-over-heels love for each other.

We were victorious, at last.


	13. Epilogue Chapter 12

**Here it is ='( The last chapter/epilogue of VAL! I'm so sorry to end it so abruptly, but as much as I love writing multichaps, I never plan for them. Which, in turn, makes it hard for me to do them because I have no idea what to do next and then end up stuck, and you all end up waiting up to months for a new chapter. I promise to plan out my next multichap out (which, in this case, will be a Tangled one that I started a while ago: "Simplicities"). I'll plan in the future. I WILL, GOSH DARNIT!**

**Despite it's rocky, random, unplanned state, I'm so happy with the positive turnout I've received about VAL! I'm so glad you all enjoyed it. I did too =) I love writing Bade stories. I love writing stories about characters with almost split personalities/two faces/two sides to them. Examples: cocky, proud Flynn Rider/sensitive, sweet Eugene Fitzherbert; hard, cold, mean Jade as opposed to loving, caring, Beck's Jade; reckless, monstrous Damon Salvatore compared to Elena's (and once Katherine's) affectionate, passionate Damon; tough, rough Gale compared to Posy's older brother Gale; and of course cocky, rude, hoity-toity Chad Dylan Cooper as opposed to the Chad around Sonny Monroe (R.I.P. SWAC). I noticed I do that too much. But deal with it, because I'll just find more people like that and write, write, WRITE. =D**

**Voila! Enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: This is more of an epilogue than an actual chapter. It just kind of sums up everything that happened since the night Jade finally cracked and admitted that she could love, and that she loved Beck. Thus, there's a bit of a time lapse.**

**. . .**

_Epilogue_

Our life continued like that for the next year and a half, a continuous cycle of fights, drama, and make-ups. It became our own personal little routine; whenever we fought, I internally smiled through the clenched teeth and tears because I knew we'd always get back on track...we'd always be alright. We were fire and water—we could be total opposites at times, but needed each other to keep balance and sanity, to pick the other one up and dust them off when they fell.

But just as our freshman summer and first three months of sophomore year ended, Andre came practically dancing in with news one day of a new girl, Tori Vega—the high-cheekboned, brunette chick who filled in for her annoying sister, Trina—who would be attending Hollywood Arts next Monday.

The left corner of my mouth slightly screwed itself up in a grimace. Andre had spent some time with her and was a pretty good judge of character, so she couldn't be _that _bad. But still...her sister was just so..._unbearable_. It seemed like it should run in the family. The annoyingness, the stubbornness...and she'd be in our grade, too, which means that we'd have to deal with both her _and _Trina.

Great.

I scooted closer into Beck, tossing his arm around my shoulder as we sat at our usual lunch table, watching everyone's weird antics. Cat with some new contraption that I was almost positive she was using wrong; Andre trying to keep it from cutting her face off. Robbie was wiping the ketchup from Rex's face that I squirted at him earlier. I sighed contentedly and rested my head on Beck's broad chest. His lips pressed softly against my multicolored hair, and I smiled, hiding it for only him and me to see behind a curtain of my locks.

And to think, this all started with just a stage kiss.

Nothing could possibly go wrong as long as we were together.

Maybe this Tori chick wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
